


Nightmare

by seekergeek



Series: Companion 'verse [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Pre-Slash, Valdemar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekergeek/pseuds/seekergeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has a nightmare</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> beta by lavvyan

John ran through the building clutching the neck of his gittern with one hand, his feet pounding on the hard wooden floors, heedless of who heard him. The rhythm reminded him of a song he'd played earlier that day in the ladies solar and he would have laughed hysterically if only he had the air to spare to do so.

The hallways seemed to go on forever, and he briefly wondered if he would ever get to the door when suddenly he was there. He flung open the door and the courtyard was overrun with unnatural beings from the Pelagirs. Their white hair shone in the moonlight, in obscene mimicry of the Companion they were swarming over. Blood fountained from its neck as it went down with a scream, spattering John in the face and staining it's white coat, red, red, red. Then the creatures turned their fish-gray faces to him and extended hands with claw-like fingernails and maws in their palms towards him, smiling ghoulishly. He backed up quickly and then turned and ran back into the building.

He skidded round a corner and ran down another hall, his chest burning from the effort, air cooling the bloody splatters on his face into an itchy mask. He had to get to the king, he had to get to the king, his mind gibbered to him. He ran up a set of stairs and burst into a reception hall.

There, in the middle of the room, knelt the king, his whites torn open at the chest as two of the creatures held him down. The sides of the hall were lined with people in fancy court garb, looking on disinterestedly. A third creature, a female, stood before the king, baring her sharp, pointed teeth. John came to a stumbling halt, staring at the scene in horror. The female then laughed and said, "You are too late," and slammed her hand into the center of the king's chest.

The king's head shot back and an endless scream tore its way out of this mouth as John stood there and gaped. The king aged decades as he screamed and John watched, frozen. The female then released him, turned to John and said, "And now it is your turn."

John turned his gaze away from her face to stare at his aged king. _Do it_, the king Mindspoke to him.

"I...I can't," John protested, his gittern dropping from nerveless fingers to hit the floor with a ringing thump.

_Do it_, the king replied.

"You're the king! I can't kill you!" John cried out beseechingly.

_DO IT! _the king ordered, somberly blinking his gray filmed eyes.

A knife appeared in John's hand and he threw it, threw it at the king, all the while going, "No, no, no, no, no, no," in a horrified whisper.

The knife sank into the king's throat and blood burst forth, dyeing his white clothing red, red, red.

The creature was suddenly gone and the courtiers rushed him, grabbing him from all sides, shouting at him. "Murderer!" they cried. "Regicide!"

They tore his clothes from him, the red fabric coming away from his body in handfuls as he desperately tried to get away. "No!" he screamed. "No! It wasn't like that! I had to! He ordered me!"

"MURDERER!" they thundered and the sky crackled above them in agreement. Then one of them grabbed the gittern and smashed it against the floor, as he watched helplessly, naked and white. Then another stomped on the pieces, then a stream of them took turns dancing on the remains as they circled round him, wild-eyed and shrieking, "Murderer! Regicide! Traitor! Useless faggot! Death to you! Death to you! Death to you..."

_John_, a voice rang out over the din. _John_, the voice repeated, growing louder. _JOHN, WAKE UP!_

John sat up panting and shaking. The room was dark, with only the glimmer of stars showing at the window for light. He ran a shaking hand over his face, palm rasping over stubble. _What?_ he asked.

_You were having a nightmare again_, Atlantis said gently.

A sudden banging on his door that made him jump. _There's somebody at my door_, he apologized hastily to his Companion as he swung his legs off the bed and got up. He quickly lit a candle and then threw on a much mended shirt that just met the top of his loose shorts and padded over to the door. He opened it up and found the Heralds' problematic trainee standing there and glaring at him with puffy eyes.

"Do you _mind_?" Rodney demanded as he crossed his arms over his chest. John absently noted how the fabric of his sleep shirt strained over his pectorals. "Some of us are trying to sleep here!"

"Huh?" John said blankly, his mind still reeling from the nightmare.

Rodney huffed impatiently and rolled his eyes. "What makes you think that all that moaning and crying out is not going through the walls, Herald?" Rodney's eyes narrowed as he continued to glare at John. "Are you having some kind of orgy in here? Because that would just be the topper to this whole farce. Not only am I naturally bad at all the subjects I have to learn now, but I'll also never get another proper night's sleep because my next door neighbor keeps me up all night with the noise he makes screwing his many girlfriends."

"Havens, no!" John protested, his ears pinking up in embarrassment. This guy presumed a hell of a lot about John's love life that simply wasn't true. That he even had one, for example. He ran a hand through his hair. "Gods, no, I just, I was just having a...a nightmare," he finished awkwardly, dropping his hand back down to his side.

Rodney's cranky arrogance slid off his face in an instant and his face turned bright pink and his hands started to flail. "Oh! Um...well, then. That's different. I ah, I get a lot of nightmares too. A really big fish in Lake Evendim eats me in mine. Which you probably didn't need to hear about right after yours. I mean, I'm sure the experiences that yours are drawn from are much more worthy to scream over than mine are and you probably don't need any more subject matter for yours if those sounds were any indication and..."

"Rodney," John finally said to interrupt him. If Teyla was correct (and she normally was), this complaint about the noise had been the first words out Rodney's mouth that hadn't sounded completely meek and/or defeated since he'd arrived at the Collegium. John was actually kind of impressed at how much and how fast the man could talk on a single breath.

Rodney stopped for a second, then grew pinker and flailed a little faster. "Right, right, shutting up, I'll just head on back to my room and..."

John sighed. Teyla had cornered him this evening after dinner and told him about a distressing conversation she'd had earlier in the day with Healer Carson concerning Rodney's state of mind about being Chosen, then given him that look. It was Teyla's way of letting him know that she had a lot on her plate to deal with already and that she'd deputized him to help Rodney adjust, like it or not. John opened the door wider and jerked his head towards the interior. "Get in here."

Rodney stopped again, blinked for a second and then walked gingerly in, saying, "Um, yes, sir."

Huh, thought John, noting his careful movement. He'd thought Ronon had been supposed to take it easy on this guy first time around. John shut the door and turned to look at his guest. The hangdog look was back on Rodney's face and John sighed again. He was crap at talking about emotions and squishy stuff like that. "You're not in trouble," he said calmly, trying to reassure the man. "Just...I wanted to discuss something with you and I didn't want to wake everyone else in the wing by doing it in the hallway." John gestured at the nearest chair. "Have a seat."

Rodney sat obediently, hangdog expression still firmly in place. "Look, I'm sorry. I, I'm not good with people and I'm really tired and sore and I'm having a hard time finding a position to sleep in that doesn't hurt and I've got classes that I really suck at tomorrow to look forward..."

"Rodney," John interrupted again as he sat in the chair opposite Rodney, "You don't need to apologize. _I _need to apologize for disturbing _your_ rest. You do have classes tomorrow and you do need to be rested for them."

Rodney gave him a constipated look. "Don't be ridiculous! Why the hell are you apologizing? It's, it's not like you can control that sort of thing!" He stopped for a moment, then continued more questioningly, "You can't, can you?"

John quirked the corner of his mouth up in amusement. "No. Not that I haven't tried, mind you."

"So, well then, you don't need to apologize. It's only logical," Rodney crossed his arms decidedly. "I, on the other hand..."

"Are tired and just want to get some sleep," John finished for him, determined to not the let the guy slide back into berating himself. "So, no need of an apology from you either. It's only logical," he ended, echoing Rodney and crossing his arms as well.

"Oh," Rodney said quietly, the wind quite obviously taken out of his sails. "I uh, guess not."

"The thing I wanted to discuss with you was if you want to get changed over to another room that has a quieter neighbor at night. I can talk to somebody for you, get you changed over," John said next. It wouldn't be the first time a person had moved so they didn't have to listen to his nightmares. There was a reason why that suite was empty most of the time. He supposed that he was lucky his other neighbor was gone most of the time and slept like the dead when she was in. He really didn't know what Herald-Dean Daniel had been thinking when he'd assigned Rodney that room. Teyla wanted him to make Rodney more at ease with his situation. Maybe finding him a quieter room would help a little.

Rodney's eyes dropped into his lap where his hands were fidgeting. "That might not be such a good idea. I uh...I wasn't actually asleep over there. If you had me moved I might wind up keeping someone else awake. It's actually probably a good thing that my room is at the end of the wing. I uh, I pace a lot, you see. When I can't sleep and I don't have any wor... well, anything to keep me occupied."

John shrugged. "Well, then, I could move if you want." There was a suite up in one of the towers he could take over. It was inconvenient, especially with Atlantis expecting, but isolated enough that he wouldn't bother anybody. He'd been looking at it for a while now, but Teyla kept frowning at him when he mentioned it.

There was an epic struggle that ran across Rodney's face that John watched in fascination. At the end of the internal struggle, Rodney's face settled into lines of misery. "As much as I really want to say yes to that idea, because seriously, the amount noise you make while having a nightmare is incredible, it... it occurs to me that it wouldn't be fair to you to move all your stuff just because I'm having trouble sleeping."

John eyed his spartan room. The only things in the room that he owned were his clothing, field gear and a dusty gittern sitting in a corner where John didn't have to look at it most of the time. "It wouldn't be any trouble."

Rodney looked really tempted for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I'd never hear the end of it from that she devil Cadman if I inconvenienced you like that and she's already making my life a living hell." He lifted his chin in defiance. It contrasted sharply with the desolate expression in his eyes. "I'll be fine, Herald."

Those eyes cut through John like a knife. "Look..." he began, then paused, unsure what to say next. Then he soldiered on with, "We're both having some trouble sleeping. How about we, I don't know, take each other's minds off things a while. Do you know how to play chess? We could play a game, get ourselves to relax a little before going back to bed."

Rodney's blue eyes actually lit up at the mention of chess and the bands around John's chest loosened at the delighted expression that spilled over Rodney's face. "I...yes, I do. I'm quite good actually, although I have a hard time finding someone of my caliber to play against since..."

"Good," John said, cutting Rodney off. It was the only way to get a word in edgewise when Rodney's mouth starting running like that and he liked how it made Rodney flail his hands a little every time his train of thought was interrupted. He got up and pulled out his beat up travel board from the chest at the end of his bed. "Since you say you're so good, I'll take the white."

As John ignored Rodney's offended babbling over the implied slight to his ability and set up the board on the small table between their chairs, Atlantis said to him in a thoughtful tone, _I like him. He's kindhearted under all the bluster and insecurity._

_Yeah, me too,_ John replied, a little surprised as he sat down and made his first move. Atlantis usually projected a kind of dignity that precluded commenting on whether she liked someone or not.

_Perhaps you should play chess with him every evening,_ Atlantis continued. _It could be soothing to you both._

_Maybe, we'll see,_ John replied absently as he stared down at the board at Rodney's counter to his first move. He then sank his attention the rest of the way into the game. After an intense game that involved a surprising amount of smack talk between the two of them, John tipped his queen over in concession to a hard fought battle and sat back, feeling much looser and more relaxed than when he'd woken up from his nightmare.

"That was a good game," Rodney said, also looking calmer. Maybe even a little sleepy. "You made me work for it."

John grinned. "What, no last accusations of me cheating now that you've won?"

Rodney flushed, and John's grin widened. He'd found during the game that winding the guy up seemed to settle him in some odd fashion. It was the most fun John had had in a long time. It wasn't often that he had someone with a wit as sharp as his to sling back friendly insults during a game. "Well, no. It was a good game," Rodney mumbled.

John got up, stretched and said, "Think you're ready to hit the sack now, Rodney?"

Rodney looked surprised then thoughtful as he rose slowly and carefully from his chair. "Huh. You know, maybe I could fall asleep now. I think I even hurt less."

John yawned mightily. "I think I could too. If we're lucky I won't have any more nightmares to wake either of us up again tonight."

Rodney shuffled awkwardly. "Uh, don't worry about the nightmares. I'm, I'm sure I'll get used to them."

John saw that apologetic expression slide back onto Rodney's face and was annoyed. He liked it much better when the guy was pissing and moaning about stuff. It seemed much more natural to him than this awkward politeness. "No, go ahead and bang on my door and bitch about the noise. Maybe we could play chess again."

Rodney's face slid into blank surprise and he replied, "Er, okay. That would, that would be nice. Um...I'll just get back to my room then. You uh, you sleep well."

"Yeah, Rodney, you too," John replied as Rodney slowly walked to the door and let himself out.

John shucked his shirt back off, snuffed out the candle and slid back into bed, yawning. His dreams for the rest of the night featured a cool, soothing blue.


End file.
